I Should Tell You
by the-fraulein
Summary: RENTfiction. A bunch of ramblings mostly told by Mark. If you read into it the last chapters could be MR. But mostly just friendship.
1. Terpsichore

Notes: New little story. Not really much of a point, jumps around a lot in terms of time periods.Chapters are named after the Muses. Some are a littledifferent, like Erata is the Muse of Lovepoetry, but here it's just love. Stuff like that. The little italicized things are parts of some poetry I've written that I thought fit in with the story. Hope you enjoy it though! Told from Mark's perspective unless otherwise stated.:D

Chapter 1 – _Terpsichore_ (dance)

_Golden flowers in a box  
__Burn the box, watch it rot  
__Golden flowers now are black  
__The springs of chimes long silenced_

Zoom in on Angel and Mimi, spinning each other around the room. Mimi giggled and they stumbled together, Angel hugging her tightly, grinning at Collins across the room. Roger was smiling.

He stared down at his hands when he saw me with the camera. _Caught you already, Rog, don't try to hide now_, I thought. He looked up almost shyly and gave me a hesitant little smile. His eyes darted back over to Mimi and Angel. He gestured to me vaguely while still watching them and I came over to his corner of the room and sat next to him.

"Close on Roger,"

"Don't, Mark." He said softly.

I put my camera down and stared at him expectantly. "Are you alright?"

He nodded, looked down to his feet and then up at me again. "Yeah." He sighed. "I haven't been this happy in…" He trailed off and didn't finish his thought.

"Because of Mimi?"

"Look at her, Mark." He said in the same calm voice. Soft, reserved. He was enamoured. It was sort of sweet.

"I see her, Rog."

Mimi, having taken a break from Angel who was then next to Collins, was dancing by herself. I smiled because like Roger I could no longer hear the music, I could only see Mimi with her eyes closed, her arms outspread, face turned up toward the ceiling and spinning by herself. Camera went up, but Roger pushed it back down.

"Mark that's too beautiful to capture. Just let it be a memory." He said.

I turned my camera on when he wasn't looking, pointed it in the general direction of Mimi's dance. He didn't have as long as I did to remember it, and I don't like to forget things.

* * *

_And the tiny ballerina girl  
__Crushed like powder on the floor  
__What do you dream about with such intensity?_

I stop the film and stare at Mimi's frozen image. I've never been more glad to have carried a camera in my life. But then again, I think that every time I find a beautiful image of my old friends. How could Roger have tried to stop my filming of this?

Next frame. Next. Next, and then she smiles over in my direction and pulls Roger up with her. The camera focuses better because with Roger gone I filmed them freely. She leads him in a slow moving little waltz, laying her head against his chest and closing her eyes. Roger holds her and moves clumsily with her rhythm.

Both long dead from AIDS.

A few reels later and there's Mimi shuffling around the loft bundled in a couple thin blankets. She smiles at me, then drops the blankets and does a slightly strange version of pirouette on her way into the kitchen. Mimi and her dancing. The effort makes her lean against the counter to catch her breath a moment. I remember setting the camera back down on the table and pulling the blankets back around her.

"Tea?" I had asked, and she had nodded.

The camera focuses on her again when she's sitting alone at the table holding a little cup of tea. She stares down into the cup and I'm conscious of her illness. Mimi won't be dancing much longer.

* * *


	2. Thalia

Chapter 2 – _Thalia_ (comedy)

"Marky, film me! Roger doesn't want you to bother him!"

Maureen's voice comes from off screen. I smile to myself. Roger looks up, grinning, telling me to ignore her. The first day with my new camera. Well, pawn shop new at any rate.

"I'm an actress, Marky, an actress!"

I zoom in on Roger's grin. He continues to tune his guitar.

"Well, someone's not getting laid tonight." Maureen says, pouting, and I switch the camera over toward her.

"That means you don't get any either."

I smile at that now. How wrong I was. But it was different then. Back in the beginning, things weren't like that. We all came to the city without purpose, with only basically our ideas and our lust and our wanting. Nothing could kill our spirit those first few months we were all together, but we learned quickly. Collins tested positive and I think we all died a little then.

The camera moves from Maureen to Collins, who's smiling sadly at us from the doorframe.

"Hey kids, keep it down. I'm grading papers."

"Collins, Marky won't let me fulfill my destiny!"

"Good work." He tells me, with a wink.

I zoom in on Roger laughing.

* * *


	3. Clio

Chapter 3 – _Clio_ (history)

_It doesn't stop you from being afraid  
__But not everyone wants to hurt you  
__Façade_

High School Roger is not the Roger in most of these film reels. He was a lot like withdrawal Roger, actually. Bruises, horrible scars, black eyes and broken bones.

"He's my father, Mark. I can't hate him." He'd clench his fists. "He doesn't mean it."

The first sign of problematic relationships in your future is if your parents have one.

Roger smiles in the film. His hair was long back then, he'd fixed it so it mostly covered his left eye. There's a cut on his forehead under his hairline.

"Are you alright?" Camera Mark asks from the film.

Roger shrugs. "I don't know what you're talking about, Mark. There's nothing wrong with me, ever." He grins. "C'mon, let's go in the building. Stupid science thing is first hour."

Chemistry. Roger was horrible at chemistry. He still is.

* * *

"Do my Geometry homework too, while you're at it, since it's so much 'fun'." Camera Mark says to High School Roger. High school Roger grins and takes my paper and textbook away from me. 

"It's simple, Mark. It's all logic."

"Which is why it's amazing that you're good at it."

He shrugs. "I like these little proofs." He sighs. "Mark, if you had used a perpendicular bisector to solve this one it would have saved you about four steps."

The camera is jostled slightly when Camera Mark shrugs.

"Roger?" Camera Mark asks. Roger nods and looks up briefly.

"Do you want to stay with me for a while? I mean, if…"

He narrows his eyes. "What are you saying, Mark?"

"I just think that…"

"Well maybe you shouldn't think so much." He says angrily. "Just back off, alright?"

Maybe I shouldn't have listened.

* * *

_Once I got past it, all you are  
__An emotional nightmare  
__Completely beautiful, unpredictable  
__And devoid of all logic_

I close my eyes and shut off the film. I should have talked to his mom, maybe. I should have done something. The first time Roger ever ran away, we didn't find him for three weeks. Then he was in the hospital for three more.

"Mark is here?" He'd asked in a groggy voice from the hospital bed.

I stepped toward it hesitantly, slightly afraid. He turned in my direction and offered a weak smile.

"I wondered if you'd ever want to see me again." He said.

"I wondered the same." I said back, sitting on the chair next to his bed. His mother left the room.

In a surprising gesture of affection and friendship, he had taken my hand.

"You're my best friend." He said quietly, looking away. "I should have listened to you."

"You can still come stay with me, Roger. Please."

A week later he was sleeping on a mattress on the floor of my room. He stayed until I went to college, then he went to the city and got a job and a band.

* * *


	4. Erata

Chapter 4 – _Erata_ (Love)

_Where do I stare from  
__How do I know?_

Shaky focus and then my own face coming from the film.

"Fade in on Mark, the completely worthless waste of pathetically useless flesh he is."

Camera Mark looks down at the floor then back up at the camera.

"Don't think I didn't know. I knew where Maureen was all those nights. I knew what she was doing." He sighs. "But I didn't think any of them would ever mean more to her than what we had did."

He looks angry for a moment. "I had temptation too! All those times she dragged me to those clubs and would leave me by the bar? Those poor pretty little drunk girls I could have slept with? Would she have ever known?" He shakes his head. "More importantly, would she have cared?"

Camera Mark's face turns a slight shade of pink. "Sometimes I want to just sleep with someone else. Just to see if it would affect her at all. I think about April sometimes. It would hurt them both. Maureen and Roger. They're both too thick to realize how much we care about them. We should just fuck and then run away."

He rolls his eyes. "But that's something Roger or Maureen would do. And there's people like them and then there's the people that love them."

* * *

_Romance is trap of hate  
__The days without her  
__A paroxysm _

I remember the day Maureen told me about Joanne. I had thought it was bad when she told me there a guy she liked to sleep with sometimes.

'His name is…'

'I don't care what his name is! I don't want there to be someone else that has a name!'

Could I have handled it if she'd never told me about any of them? If I had gone on ignoring her nightly behavior could we have survived together?

But Joanne would have happened eventually, and it would have killed me in the end anyway.

'Her name's Joanne, Marky. I love her.'

'And I bet you're real sorry too, Maureen.'

* * *


	5. Polyhymina

Chapter5 – _Polyhymnia_ (Sacred Hymn)

_Hands clasped in deathly prayer  
__Lashes still and lips pale  
__Her hair is spilled across the silk  
__Never so fine, or clean, or straight_

I had my arm around Roger's shoulders, and he had long since tired of attempting to look as though he wasn't crying. He had collapsed against my body and I was supporting him, trying to calm him down, but at the same time prepared to let him cry.

"I'm such a fucking asshole."

I know, Rog. Trust me, I know. I sighed. But it almost sounded romantic when he said it. He knew he was wrong then. It takes him a while to grasp things, but when he does his remorse is uncontrollable.

"April's gone." I know, Rog.

April looked beautiful. They'd washed all that horrible dye out of her hair and it was back to blonde. Her dress had short sleeves, but they'd draped her wrists in bracelets and of course they were folded over her stomach. No one could see the wounds or the tracks.

"Do you want to see her, Rog?" We were way at the back, I'd been up to the coffin, Roger had simply sat in the back and cried until I came to comfort him.

He shook his head. "I can't go there. I can't go to her." His body was shaking. "I don't deserve to."

I took his hand and started to lead him to the front. I got distracted by the tracks and stopped to stare at his arms for a moment.

"Mark?"

His eyes met mine and I smiled awkwardly. Nevermind that now.

* * *

_Her body gone, her mind drifts on  
__Her dress is stiff, her form apparent  
__Underneath the folds of cloth_

Roger stared down at April with a distinct expression of fatigue and despair.

"Love you, April." He said. "I'm sorry."

Before I could stop him he reached into the coffin and touched her hands. He looked back at me when I reached to pull his hands away.

'I'm alone', his eyes said.

"I'm with you, Rog." I told him, taking him back to our previous spot.

He looked back at the coffin.

'It's not the same.'

* * *

_The air perfumed with lavender  
__To hide the scent of death_

Roger was throwing things around the loft. I saved his guitar by locking it in my room. I watched him destroy most of our furniture and a lot of his belongings. He looked over at me with a helpless rage.

"I killed her! I killed her, Mark!"

"You didn't kill her, Rog."

"She killed herself because of me! Because of what I did to her!" He fell back against the wall and slid down until he was seated, then screamed into his hands. I jumped at the ferocity of his attack, then headed toward him awkwardly and kneeled at his side.

"Rog,"

"It's my fault."

"You need to stop."

"I killed her."

He wasn't listening and he was practically incoherent.

I left him and went to my room and pulled out the crate full of vinyl I had also saved from his room. I took one out and pulled the record out of its sleeve and went back into the main room. After I put it on the record player I sat back down next to Roger, who didn't even look up until the music started playing.

"I hate you." He said.

I had put my arm around him again. "I know. But see how much longer you mope listening to 'Crocodile Rock'."

He starts to laugh. It was uncontrollable and almost scary how it took hold of his body and he pulled away and stood up, laughing the whole time. He stopped a few moments later and looked back at me.

"I need help, Mark." He told me.

* * *


	6. Melpomene

Notes: This is from ROGER'S point of view. Letters to Marky! :D

Chapter 6 – _Melpomene_ (tragedy)

**Roger's POV**

_I trace the pattern of the motel sheets  
__And wish it were the lines of your palm_

Dear Mark,

Santa Fe is lonely. No matter how many times I come here I never get over the fact that I hate it, no matter how much I really do want to stay away.

Maybe I should have fallen in love with you. Life could be easier. More confusing, but easier. And that's my idea of logic for you.

I know you'll be shocked when you get this. I send postcards with one sentence on them. I'm horrible at communication on any level, we all know that. But you deserve more than that, I think. Because I know I'm horrible to you. And I know I could never _say _any of this to you.

I'm staying in the same place I did the first time, I have a job and a motel room. Life sucks. I just want to see you again, you know? The alcohol is getting to me because this is getting sappy, but I can't help it.

I can't afford AZT down here, Mark. It costs a lot more when you buy it legally. I don't want to go back, but I think I'll die in another few months here because I have no incentive to live and nothing keeping me alive. Someone offered me smack yesterday, someone I work with. Like, 'hey, want to go get high later? I've got an extra needle.'

You'll kill me, but I told him I'd think about it.

I'll write again.

Roger

* * *

Dear Mark,

I can't live without her. What life do I have without Mimi, Mark? Who do I have? I would have died that Christmas if I hadn't met her, you know?

I'm sorry I always unload this shit on you, but I guess you should be glad I'm talking.

Do you remember April, Mark? Do you remember how much I loved her? It doesn't hurt worse than finding her soaked in her own blood, but it hurts differently. I wanted to drive my car into a tree when I driving here. I can't stand it any longer.

If I came back could we move to Amsterdam and get stoned? I promise I won't cause trouble if you just keep me baked. I think I need you to take care of me. I'm incapable of doing it myself.

Roger

* * *

Dear Mark,

Have you not written me back because you haven't gotten any of them or are you too mad at me to care? All I can think about is how I don't know anyone here.

I'm lonely already, you know? But the motel room makes it worse. It's so impersonal. Anyone could live here, and so many people already did. Fucking here is even worse. I've slept with a couple girls since I've been here and each time it gets worse. They could be anyone, and it makes me feel like I'm anyone. I have no identity here. Fuck, I want to see you.

I think I'm going to come back. Will you still let me in?

I write like a girl.

Roger

* * *


	7. Urania

Notes: Back to Marky's POV.

Chapter 7 – _Urania_ (Astronomy)  
**Mark's POV**

_If I wasn't sick because of what she's killing herself with now  
__If she wasn't so young and beautiful_

The next reel starts with a good view of the night sky. I hear some people yelling off camera and my own heavy breathing. When Roger joins me on the roof a few minutes later I realize it was him and Mimi yelling.

Film Roger is flushed and angry. He collapses angrily beside me.

"I hate her."

The camera turns to completely capture him. "No you don't, Rog."

"She won't listen, Mark. And she's killing herself."

Camera Mark sighs. "I know you're upset Rog, but fighting about it isn't helping."

He glares. "What am I supposed to do, Mark, huh? If you know so much."

"Have you actually taken time to talk to her? Tell her how much she means to you and how much you want her to be healthy."

"I tried that! She won't listen to me!"

The camera moves as I shake my head. "Try again."

He sighs heavily and moves closer.

"This is dumb but, can I just sit out here for a while?"

"You know you can, Rog." Camera Mark says, turning the lens back toward the sky.

The film is silent for a few moments. It zooms in on a little patch of stars over to the right and then Roger speaks again.

"Do you think I'm fated to be this fucked up? Or is it really all my fault?"

His face is in front of me again and Camera Mark sighs. "I don't know, Rog."

"I hate thinking that there's a way I could have changed all of this, you know?"

"But that's true." Camera Mark says.

"I know it is." Film Roger sighs. "I just hate to admit it."

The screen goes black, I remember having turned the camera off then.

* * *

_I know it far too well  
__It never meant much to me  
__But now it's not them saying it, it's you_

When I had woken up, I was laying on my back on the roof with Roger's head on my shoulder. My arm had fallen asleep because of his head. I nudged him to move him off and he'd blinked sleepily and sat up.

"Where am I?"

"On the roof. Why don't you see if Mimi has calmed down yet?"

"I don't want to see her."

I had sat up as well and given him a disgusted look. "Well if you're going to be as much of a bitch as her then you fucking deserve each other." I had rolled my eyes. "And all your misery."

"Fuck you."

But he had apologized later to both of us.

* * *


	8. Euterpe

Chapter 8 – _Euterpe_ (music)

_Nothing attractive about a loose moral  
__And nothing attractive about a boy who becomes one_

"You don't have to sleep with people just because they offer themselves to you, Roger." I had told him.

He shrugged. "I need that connection sometimes."

"Why don't you try to meet someone new instead of sleeping with your groupies?"

"You don't understand." Silently I hear, 'you never have'.

"They're cold, they're impersonal, but they're _there_, Mark. They let me touch them and smell their hair and if I let them they stay with me until morning and I can pretend that I have someone there to fall asleep with."

I had rolled my eyes and started to walk away.

"I don't have anyone, Mark! You don't know what that feels like!"

I had turned fast and glared at him.

"I have as many people as you do, Roger! You know who that is at this point? It's you and me." He backed up and looked down at the floor. "And you're dying."

His eyes were so pained when he looked up again that I wanted to take it back, but I didn't.

* * *

_When people are numbers and numbers are names  
__Nightly holocaust of cheap sex_

"I'm glad you came to the show tonight," Film Roger says. "I didn't think you would."

"I didn't want you to feel alone."

He smiles awkwardly. "Thank you."

I reposition the camera and hold out my arm. "You can come home with me tonight, Rog. Please."

"Wait, I need my guitar. I can't go without my guitar."

He could go to Santa Fe without his guitar, but he couldn't come home.

* * *


	9. Calliope

Chapter 9 – _Calliope_ (Epic Poetry)

_His fingers trail over my arm  
__The last remnant of someone only I know, and then he's gone  
__Who will hold his hand when he leaves the world?_

I had started to leave the camera at home for these visits. Roger waved weakly with an IV laced hand when I came into the room.

I took the oxygen mask off of his face and sat on the side of his bed. He reached for my hand and I let him take it.

"I'm sorry." He said.

"You're always sorry, Rog." I told him.

"I didn't want it to be too late this time."

I sighed. It had gotten to be too late for me to tell him he was being stupid about his condition.

"Take me home, Mark." He said. "I don't want to die here."

"Roger,"

"I can't die here." And then he'd started to cough.

* * *

_You were so beautiful  
__You've done it all and wish you hadn't  
__And you won't always be here  
__But I will_

I had touched his face with the same sort of fear and horror that he'd touched April's hands with. His eyes were closed and he looked like he was sleeping, but he didn't look nearly as beautiful as April did when she died. I had never seen Mimi or Collins buried. I had stayed home with Roger who couldn't bear to go.

Roger's eyes were sunken and bruised. He was thinner than I've ever seen him and his skin was gray and starting to wrinkle. He was only 29 and looked about 45.

I leaned over the casket and kissed his forehead.

"I'll miss you, Rog." I told him. "Maybe we should have fallen in love. We might have found a place together."

I sighed. "But then what would this mean?"

I touched his thinning hair gently and kissed him again.

"I think I'm supposed to die of a broken heart now." I told him. "But it just feels empty."

* * *

Notes: Thanks for reading! I'm not sure of the point of this story or if it's actually M/R or not. But I hope you've enjoyed it anyway. :D 


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